Flicker
by the quintessence of wyrd
Summary: A growing collection of DMLL drabbles in relation to Ephemera, though now with Luna's outlook instead. You don't have to read Ephemera to get it, btw, although it's better if you do. Yenno. For the buildup.
1. Fairy Tale

**Disclaimer: **Me, own HP? Ha! And ha! again!

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Once upon a time, a rather silly little notion was planted into Luna's head by her mother.

_Wouldn't it be perfectly wonderful if life were a fairy tale?_

Her mother had simply watered it and watered it until the notion grew and grew, blooming into what Luna's mindset was today: in order for her life to become a fairy tale, she must find a prince, she decided. The trouble was, where to look?

She looked and searched high and low, around and through, here and there. Finally she stumbled upon the most peculiar person. He scowled, in a very prince-like manner. "No, Luna. It's a dumb girl's fantasy and I want no part in it."

Luna pressed up on him. "Please? Please?" she begged.

Draco rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Luna-you-are-my-princess-you-make-my-life-complete-let-us-come-to-my-kingdom-and-live-together-forever."

Luna's eyes sparkled. "That was _wonderful!_ Now seal it with a kiss."

Draco groaned, and grudgingly leaned down to oblige her. A little later, his intensity gave way to his true feelings. He murmured into her hair, "And…"

_"…they lived happily ever after," said Mrs. Lovegood to the straggly-haired child sitting wide-eyed and intent on the bed._


	2. Non Dit

"Luna." Draco didn't smile. 

Luna looked at him, dreamy as always. "Yes?"

"My-parents-want-to-meet-you-tomorrow-night--I'll-come-and-pick-you-up-so-don't-forget-and-don't-wear-anything-too-weird" he said in one breath. Then he whirled around and headed for their hilltop.

This definitely snapped Luna out of her dreamlike state. "I thought…I was a secret?" she said, surprised, running to catch up.

Draco jerked to a stop, turned around, and glared. Luna bumped into him. "Secrets mean you're ashamed," he glowered.

"Meaning…?" said Luna inquiringly.

Draco took a deep breath, did an 180 degree turn, and started walking again. Luna kept pace with his long and swift strides, waiting for his answer. "Meaning what?"

Draco did not answer.

"What did you mean?" Luna asked. Nothing.

"Could you tell me what you meant?" she said again in a most insistent fashion. Still nothing.

"Draco, I didn't understand the meaning behind-"

"Bloody _hell!"_ exploded Draco. "It means I'm not ashamed of you, got it? Now shut up so I can _think!"_ He clamped a hand over her mouth and steered her forward.

He could stifle her speech, but not her smile.


	3. The Monkey and the Drip

Luna waited by the lime tree, like always. Or rather, in it. She hitched up her robes in such a way that no Diddering Scumbug could look up and see her unmentionables. She sighed contentedly, sitting on one of the upper branches of the tree, resting her forehead against its cool trunk and smelling the fragrant blossoms, waiting for her lover to come.

And come he did. His furrowed brow, stormy gray eyes, and sleek white-blonde hair came thundering into the grove, all in a swirl of dashing black. "Luna." Her name issued from her lover's lips. She suppressed a giggle. "The narrow-minded leave no room to look up, I say!" she called.

Her darling lover then looked up. Naturally. His scowl softened slightly at the sight of her. Luna jumped down and landed on her bottom. "Oof!" Her lover pulled her up.

"Thank you," said Luna breathlessly, steadying herself by grasping his shoulders.

"Why were you up there?" Draco questioned.

Luna smiled serenely. "Climbing trees is rather fun, wouldn't you agree?"

"No," said Draco. "The last time I climbed one was when I was six. My father gave me a nosebleed and told me not to do it again."

Luna cocked her head, her eyes sympathetic. She leaned in for what Draco presumably was a kiss, and just as his mouth was about to close over hers she snapped her lips back at the speed of light and started shimmying up the tree like a very large, disproportioned monkey.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Draco said through gritted teeth, annoyed at her for teasing him.

Luna did not reply until she was at the very top. "Come up here and get your prize!" she called down to him, laughing.

Draco's jaw was set, and for a fleeting moment Luna was afraid that he would just stalk away, ever the drip. But then Draco shrugged off his cloak and pulled off his gloves and started climbing. "You…are…going to…get it…when I get up there," he grunted.

"I'll believe it when I see it," returned Luna affably, enjoying watching him struggle as he huffed and puffed his way on up.

Just as he was reaching for a branch, Draco lost his grip and fell. He lay on the ground, stunned.

Luna laughed. Loudly. Then she shimmied down, ever the monkey, and helped her lover up. As he dusted off his robes, the scowl returning again, Luna kissed him soundly on the mouth.

Draco touched his lips gingerly. The scowl ebbed away. "What was that for?"

"For trying," Luna told him. 


	4. Metaphor

"Don't!" cried Luna in anguish. He was going to destroy them! 

Draco looked around, alarmed to find an extremely agitated Luna pummeling him with her fists. He took up each hand, slowly uncurled each finger, and tangled them with his. "What's the matter, Lovegood?"

She pointed to the ground, fingers still intertwined with his; Draco's eyes followed. "You were going to crush my favorite flower."

Draco snorted. "That's just a clump of dandelions."

"I'm quite sure I knew their name before you enlightened me, but thank you anyway," said Luna.

"I _mean,"_ continued Draco irritably, "a dandelion is just a weed. It's not a flower. It's okay if I decimate them. I'm contributing to the good of the world by doing it, as a matter of fact."

"They're still my favorite flower," said Luna decidedly.

"It's a weed!" said Draco exasperatedly.

"Why?"

"Well…" Draco was stumped. "Because it just _is._ It's common."

"But does that make them any less pretty?" countered Luna. "Look, aren't they rather nice?"

"I…I suppose," Draco grudgingly admitted.

Luna shook his hands off and waved her arms around. "There you go! Flower, shmower, weed, fleed! Isn't it silly that the name of a dandelion is undermined by a silly classification? If you didn't know it was a weed you'd tread around it like a rose, wouldn't you?"

"I don't know," said Draco, a bit miffed. "I hate flowers anyway."

"I think you would," decided Luna. "I think roses are more common, you see those pretentious things pretending to symbolize love and whatnot all the time. But the dandelion-it grows in quantity even when the rose keeps trying to overshadow it, and I think that makes it so much more in quality."

"Erm…"

"Roses are all about definition," Luna went on. "Dandelions…extract hope." She plucked a dandelion clock up and blew on the seed head, so that its seeds scattered and sailed on the breath of the wind and a bug-eyed girl dressed in mismatched clothes. And as Luna watched Draco watch them go, her eyes crinkled happily. He was worried for them.


	5. Parable

Luna loved doing absolutely nothing with her paramour. 

"It's strange how there are a variety of ways to do simply nothing," she mused aloud as they lay on their hilltop. The sun was sinking, blotting the sky in pinks and oranges and yellows, like melting sherbet.

The paramour in question did not respond. Instead, he looked up at the sky, brow furrowed in deep thought. "Why?"

Luna turned her head a little. Their fingers were linked. She looked at him for clarification.

"It's as if we're in a glass bowl," Draco said. "The war doesn't touch us."

"Of course it does," Luna said gently.

"Then what are we doing here?" snapped Draco. "We're lying around and bloody doing nothing, like you said! I don't like this feeling of-of isolation. It's like playing pretend, like we're going to pretend everything is all right and there's not a million people who won't like seeing us together while somewhere else there's another million being killed, or tortured-"

"Do you want to do something?" asked Luna.

"It just feels like there's a barrier between us we've decided to be blind to," said Draco aggressively.

"What divides us?" said Luna curiously.

"What, are you thick? Sides separate us," said Draco exasperatedly.

"But we're together," Luna pointed out, smiling. Draco didn't understand that love could not divided by sides. Love had no sides. It freely floated above the confines of right and wrong, adrift in a sky of abstractness.

"But what if we're head-to-head in battle and I have to kill you?" Draco hissed. "You can't say that we'd be together then."

"You won't," said Luna matter-of-factly. "You'd drop your wand, enclasp me in your arms, and say 'Baby, I'm sorry, I'll never hurt you again, and then we'll run off into the sunset. Or sunrise, if you'd prefer," she added.

Draco's intense stare had frozen.

"Or you can just come over to my side, it's the right one," offered Luna.

Draco buried his face in his hands, shoulders trembling.

"I'm sorry!" gasped Luna, gripping his broad shoulders with her small hands. "I didn't mean to make you cry-"

Draco shook his head and freed his face from its digital prison. "I'm _laughing,_ you twat."


	6. Purgatory

It was a very nice dining hall, Luna had to admit. But it was just a little too baroque. The chandelier gave off sterile light. The chair she was sitting it was uncomfortable and demanded a precise body position. The table looked too shiny, as if it were rarely used. Luna recalled her kitchen table at home, pockmarked with the family's schizophrenic scribbles and some droopy flowers in a colorful porcelain vase. She eyed the many different utensils and wished she knew etiquette and how to make small talk and all those other high society things. 

Narcissa Malfoy smiled patronizingly at her from across the table as they waited for the house elves to serve dinner. Her husband, and Draco's father, leered from the fireplace, seemingly naught but a severed head. Draco himself was seated next to Luna, staring straight ahead, face void of all emotions.

Luna's thoughts raced. Don't belch, there's a fine line between curiosity and downright nosiness, refrain from grunting, compliment the food but not too excessively or they'll think I'm being possessed by a mankraug. Anything involving bodily functions is not allowed as conversation, but Crumple-Horned Snorkacks might fit the bill. Small bites, don't slurp if the host's robes are green. She glanced at Draco again. Still not looking at her. His shoulders were tense. She wished he would give her even the tiniest sign of comfort or support. Her thoughts returned frantically to what little she knew of table manners. Back straight, don't slouch or I'll crack my mother's pavement, don't put elbows on table, arms at sides will do-no, hands folded neatly in lap to see how fattening the food is by feeling the plumpness of my thighs-but when she attempted to fold her hands neatly in her lap something stopped her.

Another hand. A soft, warm hand that enclasped hers. Soothing, reassuring. Luna surreptitiously sneaked another glance at Draco. He was still looking ahead without the slightest facial expression indicating that he cared. The corner of his mouth twitched.

The house elves streamed in with steaming platters. "Dinner will now be served," one squeaked.

Luna and Draco continued to hold hands underneath the table throughout the duration of that grandiose, uncomfortable, now-made-slightly-better meal.


	7. The Aftermath

**A/N:** I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed. And also mention that Luna's house may not actually be called The Quibbler, but one can't refute it either. Or if you can...meh. 

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Draco escorted Luna to the fireplace. His father's disembodied head had vanished from the grate; he had gone off to tend to business elsewhere, according to a very grim-looking Draco. His mother, on the other hand, was probably sitting in a high-backed upholstered chair somewhere staring blankly into space, as she was apt to do nowadays. The dining room was empty; the elves had cleared the table half an hour ago.

Luna took a pinch of Floo powder from the ornate box on the mantelpiece and threw it into the dying flames, which immediately rose up again, now a brilliant green. She looked at Draco and smiled. "How did I do on your parents' scale?"

"Bad," said Draco flatly. "They said you dress funny and you're a blood traitor. They don't like your dad because of his magazine. They think I'm too good for you because your family doesn't have enough wealth or stature. They told me you were a gibbering maniac with horrible table manners and they never want to see such a freak step over the threshold of this house again."

Luna's face grew more solemn with each word. "And what do you think?" she asked quietly.

Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him, crushing her in his embrace. "I agree with them," he said finally, "but all the things they scorned you for are all the things I love about you."

"Even the part about never wanting me to step foot in this house ever again?" inquired a beaming Luna.

"They don't deserve to have you here," answered Draco.

Luna then proceeded to kissed him so fiercely that by the time she hopped into the fireplace, waved at him merrily while enunciating "The Quibbler!", and therefore disappearing in the midst of the emerald flames, Draco was still recovering from his shock and in all honesty, was feeling rather giddy.


	8. Loveinamist

**A/N:** Companion piece to "Love-lies-bleeding" snippet in Ephemera. If only Fanfiction would allow the hyphens in chapter titles...gah.

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"I'm only trying to help you," Luna called to Draco's stiffened back. He did not turn around, but remained where he was, upright and uptight.

Luna looked at his profile carefully. He was so pale it was hard to imagine that he had actually spent most of his summer frolicking in fields under the hard, blazing sun with her. Then again, even if he had been incredibly tan from all their time outdoors, it would still be rather hard to imagine, considering the impression he gave others. She smiled craftily. She knew the real Draco, whether he liked it or not. He was an old softy on inside. Oh yes, he would put up all sorts of fronts, gave off a right stoic persona-but in the end, Luna saw right through them, and they only made him seem that much more fragile.

She skipped right up to him and patted him on the shoulder; he flinched at her touch. "Draco, I think you're really handsome."

His mouth twitched and his shoulders relaxed.

"So even if you do look like a ferret, you are still the most handsome-"

"I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A FERRET!" he bellowed and went off stormily again.


	9. Pinocchio

Luna hugged her knees closer to her person and gazed out at the cold clear night sky. She often snuck out of her house just to sit on this flat-topped rock and mull things over. Her object of contemplation tonight happened to be none other than her boyfriend. 

Luna giggled. Her boyfriend. It sounded very strange. She'd never dreamed in a million years that she would find herself with one, much less one many of her friends considered an arrogant little berk. Life handed you the strangest opportunities sometimes. Had it been a good idea to take this one?

She grew somber at once. Draco made her feel like a bunch of misled Wrackspurts had drifted into her veins, making her heart go all fuzzy. While that was all fine and dandy, a side effect of this was something she did not quite expect. She woke up today and hesitated to wear her radish earrings. She was afraid of what that lady in the book shop would have thought if she had known that Luna was the daughter of "that crackpot Xenophilias Lovegood." She had even gotten into an argument with her father about the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. "I'm surprised at you, Luna," he had said perplexedly. "You don't seem like yourself today."

She didn't. She was slipping away from herself and she wasn't sure she wanted to. This whole new perception of things scared her. Self-consciousness, political correctness, conforming-these terms were not in her book. It was a bit like that Muggle story, she mused, the one with the marionette boy. The question was, did she want to be real?

Her eyes pleaded with the heavens, but tonight there were no stars to shimmer her guidance.


	10. Madam Puddifoot's

"You _prat!"_ screamed Pansy Parkinson. "You brought me here just to-" 

Draco looked at Pansy quite serenely. "I brought you here to explain why-"

"Here! Here?" Pansy shrieked and looked around in anguish. The lovey-dovey couples surrounded the two like the sea, while Pansy was stranded on an island of unrequited love. "You-you were just leading me on by taking me here!" Pansy's voice broke.

"Pansy, don't be silly." Here Draco reached a hand out, which Pansy promptly slapped away. "Don't try to disillusion me again," sniffled Pansy, wiping tears from her eyes. The sight of it made Draco giggle. Soon the giggles erupted into screeching, hysterical laughter. The couples in the tea shop broke apart from one another and stared at the boy who was the source of all the commotion and now had tears streaming down his pointed face.

Pansy stared, aghast. "What's with you?"

"I-it's just-" hiccupped Draco, "-just for a moment, y-you looked a bit like my aunt's Crup-and it was hit by a car twice, so now it looks more like a pug-"

Pansy screamed again, this time more shrilly; several nearby patrons winced and clutched their ears. "Shut it, you horrible, foul-_ooh!"_ She snatched up her teacup and dumped its contents onto Draco's sleek head, who was still shaking his head, laughing, while everyone looked on with bemusement and disapproval.

Not even minutes after Pansy had stormed out, another pale pointy-faced boy strode in, identical to the one sitting slumped at a central table, chuckling to himself and using his wand to siphon off the tea debris in his hair.

"Draco!" said the one at the table with some surprise, his last chuckle petering out in his throat. He was looking rather guiltily up at his doppelganger.

"Why'd you do that?" asked the one standing up coldly, looking very austere.

"I just wanted to give her some closure," explained the one sitting.

"Well you've just made things worse," snapped the one standing. He scowled at the bystanders and coughed, "Erm. Twin," and before the sitting one had even blinked, the one called Draco wrenched him to his feet and had dragged him out of the shop, leaving the sound of a bell tinkling and the door slamming in their wake.

"Draco, I-" began one of the two, but the other interrupted. "Save it, Lovegood." Luna quieted and looked at Draco anxiously. "At least..." he gave a melodramatic sigh. "...at least you've chased her off. She won't be speaking to me for a few years." And Draco gave her a small grin.

Luna returned the smile happily. She enclasped Draco in her arms and was just about to give him a quick grateful peck on the lips when suddenly Draco threw his hands in front of his face and pushed her away. "Wait! We-we've got to wait at least a half hour more before we do any snogging!" yelled Draco frantically, backing away from her a bit.

Luna looked up at him, alarmed. "Wha-?"

_"You still look like me!"_ hissed Draco. "Now I may be a bit arrogant, but contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a_ total_ narcissist."


	11. Euphemism

Luna loved doing it for Draco. 

"You're great, Luna," moaned Draco. "Really great, keep it coming."

"You really think so?" asked Luna ecstatically. "I've been practicing."

"Oh, yeah," grunted Draco.

Luna grew flushed with pleasure. "Well, you've been wonderful too-"

Just then the door slammed open.

"Aha!" shrieked Luna's father, pointing his finger at the pair accusingly, his beard quivering violently. "How _dare_ you take advantage of my daughter like that! I knew a Malfoy couldn't change-"

"I wasn't taking advantage of her, she was the one-" Draco began to protest, but Luna interrupted. "Don't be selfish, Daddy," she said crisply. "You always get some, and it's about time other people got a taste too."

"So what? Are you a woman of service now?" shouted Luna's father.

"You won't get any at all if you carry on like that," warned Luna.

"Oh fine," Luna's father said miserably. He plopped himself down at the kitchen table and sulkily waited to be served a bowl of Luna's mouthwatering Freshwater Plimpy soup. "But_ I_ used to be your first sampler."


	12. King's Cross

Mr. Lovegood was preparing his daughter for another year at Hogwarts. 

"Okay, so here's a fresh supply of Gurdyroots and Dirigible Plums-"

"-take this crystal, I've perfected it and it's sure to ward off those blasted nargles-"

"-ahh, and take this, it's Snorkack pheromones, good for your menstruation cycle-"

"-oh, and here's some raspberry jam to coat the windowsills at night, I've heard tell of some creatures called pheppers that-"

"Daddy! I'll be okay!" Luna pocketed all the strange apparatus her father had given her and smiled encouragingly. "Really, I will. I have friends now."

Mr. Lovegood took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow with it. "Well, you know I'll worry anyway."

Luna gave him a hug. "You told everyone we have to fight for and with Harry, and I will."

"Yes, well, about that-" under Luna's scrutinizing gaze he hastily said, "Okay! Okay! Stay safe."

Luna turned away from her father and walked towards the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. When she looked back, her father had gone. Smiling slightly, she was about to enter Platform Nine and Three Quarters when a hand grabbed hers and pulled her away from the barrier and into someone's embrace.

"Draco?" whispered Luna, heart thumping wildly. Her voice was slightly muffled as her face was pressed against his chest, his arms woven around her and interlocked at the small of her back.

"Obviously," said Draco into her hair. "Have you forgotten me already?"

Luna looked up at him. His face was half hidden by a green hood; all Luna saw of him were his lips, his pointed chin, and a bit of his nose.

"It's only been a little over a month," Luna said softly. "I haven't forgotten."

"I can't go through with you," he said regretfully, still holding her close. "One of Father's cronies is bound to notice me."

"Will you be okay?" asked Luna.

"I'll manage." Draco grimaced. "Lovegood, I just want you to know that those three weeks with you were some of the best in my life." Here he sounded very husky.

Luna tapped him on the nose. "Malfoy, I just want you to know that I feel the same way." Here she sounded on the verge of laughing. "I'll see you soon."

"You do know that there's a good chance 'next time' will be-?" began Draco, raising an eyebrow.

"-when we face each other in battle?" finished Luna brightly. "Stick to the script I gave you and you'll do fine." She squeezed his hand.

"You have too much faith in me," observed Draco in an undertone. "I make mistakes you know."

"Mistakes are sexy," answered Luna affectionately. "When you have faith, you have nothing else to lose."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Draco, his voice beginning to break.

"Oh, I don't want a sad goodbye," Luna told him earnestly, "Give me a good snog and let's part ways smiling."

Draco did so and watched her skip away. The texture of her kiss would linger on his lips.


	13. 5 Years Later

Luna was rudely woken from a pleasant dream of dancing with Mooncalves when Draco elbowed her in the face. She blinked several times and peered in the semi-darkness at the tossing and turning figure that was her husband. He had broken out into a sweat and seemed to be in an agitated state. 

Luna sighed. It was those dreams again, she knew. The ones they had thought his subconscious had gotten over. She gently shook him. "Draco. Draco, wake up."

"Huh?" Draco's eyes flew open. He was clutching his pillow and breathing quite heavily. Luna got up and opened the window, letting in the icy chill. By the time she crawled back into their bed, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, face buried into his hands. Moonlight made his white-blonde hair glow.

Luna grasped his shoulders. "Draco...are you laughing?" she whispered tentatively.

He whipped his head around and glared at her, blinking rapidly. "I'm _crying,_ you twat." He hurriedly wiped away the tears contaminating his face and stared at his hands in disgust. "I was a puppet. Loads of people...my fault..." he murmured. "They know it too. They came back to torment me in my sleep again."

"Draco-"

"-even you were there," said Draco, looking pale. "You screamed stuff at me, said I didn't do a damn thing when you were stuck in my basement for three months. And-and you're right." His head fell into her lap, shoulders trembling violently, and his arms encased her tightly and he was saying _I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ in cracked whispers while Luna cradled him like a child. "Everyone makes mistakes," she said quietly. "I don"t blame you Draco, you were doing it on orders from Voldemort and trying to keep your family safe. It's not good to dwell on the past, really. Those dreams of yours are just a personification of your guilt. It shows you have a conscience. It shows that you're a good person."

"I want to believe that," said Draco, his voice muffled from pressing his face into the flannel of Luna's nightgown. Luna stroked his head. She looked at the harmless gray blot on his left forearm and kissed it softly. "You will."

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**A/N:** Fin.


End file.
